“I was a Boy Scout at heart if not in practice,” Zander countered. “The polyester really was a deal breaker, though.”
“So was the camping because you hate bugs.” Harper knelt and gestured with her hand so Jared knew where to hold the flashlight beam. “I’m surprised you agreed to do this since it involved camping.”
“I did this for you.” Zander said the words quickly, realizing too late that he should have kept them to himself. When he risked a glance at Harper he found her staring at him, mouth gaping. “What?”
“You didn’t do this for me,” Harper argued. “You did this for you.”
“Keep opening that lock while you’re arguing,” Jared ordered, prodding Harper to return to her task. “We’re going to talk about how you carry a lock-picking kit around with you while on a job, by the way. That’s going on the list of serious discussions we’re going to have when we get back to Whisper Cove.”
“If we get back to Whisper Cove,” Harper muttered, her eyes flashing dark.
“We’re getting back,” Jared said, his expression earnest. “In fact, hopefully we’re going back in the next hour. If Molly and Lucy are on the other side of this door, there’s absolutely nothing stopping us from rescuing them, grabbing Eric and Shawn from the second floor, and going for help.”
Harper stared at him for a long beat, her fingers unmoving. “What about John?”
“We’ll get help,” Jared replied. “If Molly is in here, we’re going. We’ll come back with help – heck, I’ll come back with the Coast Guard if I have to – but we’re leaving if we find Molly.”
Harper swallowed hard and nodded before turning back to her task. “I miss sleeping in a bed.”
“I miss waking up with you in a bed,” Jared groused. “Heck, I miss waking up with both of you.”
Harper smirked at the admission as Zander puffed out his chest. It took her a moment to remember what they were talking about before Jared distracted her, though, and when she turned the conversation back to Zander’s announcement, her tone was accusatory. “You did not do this for me, by the way. I did it for you because you wanted to be on television.”
Zander balked. “That is not true.”
“It’s totally true.”
“It is not!”
“It is and there’s no reason to argue about it,” Jared interjected. “You wanted to be on television. I could’ve convinced Harper to let me take her to this island if it wasn’t for you and that stupid television show.”
“And why would you want to do that?” Zander asked.
“Because I didn’t like the idea from the beginning, but I wanted to be supportive,” Jared replied, not missing a beat. “I love Harper. I want her to have everything she wants. She didn’t want to be on television, but she did want to see this asylum – even though she feared it – and she did want to make you happy. So that’s what we did.”
Zander’s face was stark white in the limited light. “But … I thought you wanted to do this, Harp. I thought it was something fun we could do together.”
“I wanted to see the asylum,” Harper admitted, gritting her teeth as she fiddled with the lock. “I don’t care about television, though. You wanted it so I wanted it for you.”
“We all want the best for each other,” Jared said, grinning. “We’re good and loving people.”
“Shut up.” Zander flicked Jared’s ear. “You should have told me she didn’t want to be here.”
“I thought you knew,” Jared said, ruefully rubbing his ear. “You read her better than most people – better than me at times – and it was obvious when I looked at her. She was curious and miserable at the same time. It was written all over her face.”
“But … .” Zander broke off, searching his memory. “Oh, well, this bites. I kind of wanted to be on television, but I would’ve totally abandoned the idea if I knew it made you unhappy. I love you more than the idea of being famous, Harp.”
“I know that.” Harper offered up a fleeting smile. “It’s okay. I’m not sorry we came.”
“Really?” Jared cocked a dubious eyebrow. “After all of this, you’re not sorry?”
“I’m not happy, but if we can help Anna and a few of the others, I won’t be sorry. I … got it!” The sound of the lock snicking into place caused Harper to hop to her feet. She pocketed the lock pick tools and watched as Jared twisted the door handle.
The door popped open with only a loud squeak of protest. Jared was back to being serious so he lifted a finger to still Harper and Zander and stepped into the room. He was slow and methodical as he bounced his flashlight around the dank space, stopping when he caught a hint of movement in the far corner.
Harper followed his gaze, crying out and bolting forward when she recognized Molly’s green head. “Molly!”
“Harper?”
Molly was so relieved when she saw her boss that she burst into tears, struggling to get to her feet as Harper approached. Harper threw her arms around Molly’s neck, ignoring the way the girl fought to stand.
“We’ve been so worried,” Harper said, fighting off her own set of tears. “We thought … I don’t know what we thought, but it wasn’t good. How did you end up here?”
“I went to the bathroom after everyone was asleep last night,” Molly replied. “Someone came up behind me and … well, it was over pretty quickly. When I woke up I was in here.”
“Are you alone?” Jared asked, furrowing his brow as he tried to search the room. “Is Lucy with you?”
“She was,” Molly said, her voice wavering. “She passed out about two hours ago. I … she hasn’t woken up again.”
“Where?”
“Here.” Molly lifted the nearby blanket, revealing the prone form of Lucy. The woman was unnaturally pale, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She didn’t look well. “I think she’s dying.”
“What happened to her?” Jared asked, pressing his hand to Lucy’s neck to check for a pulse as he knelt. “Was she hit over the head … or did something else happen?”
“She was drugged with whatever stuff I was – I think it was chloroform – but she was stronger when I got here,” Molly replied. “She went downhill fast.”
“What does that mean?” Terror clawed through Harper’s chest. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I’m not sure,” Jared muttered, slipping an arm under Lucy in an effort to lift her. “We need to get her out of here. I can carry her out, but that means you’re going to have to help Molly, Zander.”
Zander bobbed his head. “No problem.” He leaned down to hook his hands under Molly’s armpits but drew back when the younger woman’s body went rigid. “What’s wrong?”
Molly’s eyes were fixed on the door, her lip quivering, causing Harper and Zander to expectantly snap their heads in that direction.
“He’s back,” Molly whispered. “He’s back and … he’s not happy.”
20
Twenty
Harper clutched her flashlight to her chest, fear gripping her belly. Zander let loose with a low whimper as he tugged Molly protectively to his side. Jared was the exact opposite, quickly standing and fixing his flashlight beam on the figure in the open doorway.
“Finn.” Harper exhaled heavily, her mind working overtime as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She wasn’t sure who she suspected – it easily could’ve been any of the men, after all – but Finn wasn’t on the top of her list. “Why?”
Finn didn’t appear surprised to find his prison infiltrated by interlopers. His face was impassive, although a glint of mayhem flitted through his eyes. “Why what? I was just passing by and heard voices. I’m here to help.” His tone was flat, unconvincing. “Do you need help? I can carry Lucy.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jared countered, moving a bit so he stood in front of Lucy should Finn rush in that direction. Harper stood between Zander and Jared – and Jared would’ve preferred her location to be closer to his – but he didn’t make a mo
ve in that direction. “What are you doing down here, Finn?”
“We decided to break up and search the grounds,” Finn replied. “I happened on this place and heard your voices. We should get these women out of here.”
He sounded so calm, almost rational, that for a split-second Harper considered believing him. Then her pragmatic side took over.
“You happened upon this place?” she challenged. “How? It’s only accessible through the stairwells on the far side of the building. You can’t hit it from the main foyer without doing some hard searching … and without the plans or a guide, it seems virtually impossible to me.”
“Huh. I just walked through a door.”
“What door?”
“It’s down that way.” Finn vaguely waved in the direction he disappeared to before they entered the room. “It wasn’t hard at all.”
Harper didn’t believe him for a second. “Then how come you came to this room, unlocked it, looked inside, and then left again?”
“Excuse me?” For the first time since entering, Finn expressed actual surprise. “What do you mean?”
“We saw you,” Jared supplied. “We were hiding in the other hallway. We saw you come in here.”
“I see.” Finn licked his lips. “I guess I can’t really explain that, can I?” He sounded more amused than fearful. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect to find you down here. I didn’t have time to come up with an appropriate story. I’ll do better next time.”
“Next time?” Jared adjusted his grip on the flashlight, never moving the beam from Finn’s lanky frame. “There’s not going to be a next time.”
“You think that, don’t you?” Finn was back to being amused. “All I have to do is shut this door, lock you in, and leave you here. You’ll die and I can pick another room for the second group. It’s really not that difficult.”
Harper didn’t like Finn’s matter-of-fact tone so she decided to direct his attention to her in case Jared tried to push things to a place that would hurt all of them. “Why, Finn? Why did you do this?”
“I’m not sure you’re asking the right question.” Finn drifted to his right, walking in front of an aged countertop. “It’s not why did I do this. It’s why didn’t I do this sooner? It’s been a very … freeing … experience.”
Harper wasn’t sure what to make of his answer. “Do you have a tie to this place? You said you used to live locally. You mentioned it to Zander. Are you a Bennett or something?”
“Not a Bennett, no.” Finn smirked. “Never a Bennett.”
Harper flicked her eyes to Anna when the ghost appeared in the doorway. She expected the woman to address her, but Anna’s eyes were fixed on Finn. There was a sadness in their depths that Harper didn’t have an easy time identifying.
“John Jacob Bennett moved to Malta after he fled Michigan, in case you’re wondering,” Finn offered. “I did quite a bit of research on this place when I found out we would be visiting. Actually, I did the research years before. I’m the one who tried to direct Michael here in the first place. It took a lot longer than I anticipated.”
“He moved to Malta? That’s a fine bit of investigative work.” Harper hoped to appeal to Finn’s ego as a distraction so Jared would have enough time to come up with a solid plan. “How did you find that out?”
“It wasn’t difficult,” Finn replied. “I had an interest in this place because my father told me about it before he died. He said some very bad things happened here. I grew up in the area – Dearborn, in fact – and I knew the legends. I started digging when I was still a teenager. I guess we have that in common, huh, Harper?”
Harper nodded without hesitation. “I guess we do. That still doesn’t explain how you found out the information.”
“My mother worked as a caterer for years before retiring,” Finn answered, skimming his fingers over the counter as he paced back and forth. He was antsy but made no move to go after Jared, who was seemingly the biggest threat to whatever it was Finn had planned. “She knew the Bennett family. I worked for her part-time and on weekends while I was in high school and college, so when she hosted a party for the Bennetts I couldn’t stop myself from asking questions.”
“And they just told you?”
“No, that took a bit of liquor and some properly placed questions, but eventually I realized that they had several pieces of one-of-a-kind art. It all originated from Malta. Since every Bennett but one was accounted for, I asked the obvious question. CeeCee Bennett was drunk enough when I asked that she told me everything.
“John Jacob Bennett fled to Malta right after he left this place,” he continued. “CeeCee, who would’ve been his niece, said that he wasn’t to blame for anything that happened out here but knew he would get locked up. He claimed someone was framing him.
“I’m not sure she believed it, but she spouted the nonsense all the same,” he said. “He lived out his days in Malta, never marrying. Whether or not he found trouble again, I don’t know. I didn’t care about him enough to dig that far.”
“Why did you dig at all?” Harper asked, genuinely curious. “I know why I was interested. I wanted to know about the ghosts and I was certain there were a lot of them out here. Why were you so intrigued by this place?”
“Because it’s where I started.”
Harper stilled. “No. This place closed before you were even born. What are you … thirty years old? Even if you’re a young-looking forty-year-old, you still never spent time in this place while it was in operation.”
“I’m thirty-two,” Finn supplied. “And, no, I never spent time here back then. That’s not what I said, though. I said this was where I started.”
“I don’t understand.” Jared drew Finn’s attention to him. “How could you have started here?”
Harper rolled her neck as Anna made an odd gesture. It was directed toward Finn, who couldn’t see her, but Harper thought she might’ve understood it. “You’re Anna Pritchard’s grandson, aren’t you?”
Jared shot Harper an odd look, although it was brief. “How can you possibly know that?”
“She can’t,” Finn answered. “She’s just guessing.”
“Maybe,” Harper conceded. “I think Anna recognizes you, though. She seems to, at least.”
Finn jerked his head to the side, as if searching for Anna’s spirit. “She’s here?”
“She is.”
Finn’s face split with an eerie grin. “I didn’t know if the stories were true about you being able to see and talk to ghosts, but once you knew about Anna – once you found her records in the office – I knew you were the real deal.
“My mother sent me stories about you over the past few years,” he continued. “You’ve earned something of a cult following in certain circles. I knew when I finally convinced Michael to visit the Ludington Asylum that you needed to be a part of our team.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re not a fake,” Finn replied. “Most of the people we deal with are frauds and attention seekers. Not you, though. You only agreed to do it because you wanted to see the asylum. You were interested in the science of it all.”
“That’s not exactly true,” Harper hedged. “I’m interested in helping the spirits move on. I guess that’s mildly scientific, but it’s more a matter of faith than anything else.”
“I don’t believe that, but it’s hardly important.” Finn stared at the spot where Anna’s ghost watched him. Harper could almost imagine that he really saw her, but she knew he didn’t. He might try to will himself to do it, but he wouldn’t be successful. He didn’t have “the gift.”
“Go back to Anna,” Jared ordered, his mind busy. “Are you saying you’re her grandson?”
“I am.” Finn beamed. “My father was her son. He told me when he got sick with cancer that he wasn’t really a Hicks. I mean … he was. I know that now. He always thought that Anna Pritchard gave birth to him and Gerard and Wendy Hicks adopted him out of the kindness of their hearts. He died n
ot realizing that Hicks was his real father. I want to thank you for digging out that tidbit.”
“What did his birth certificate say?” Harper asked.
“It listed Anna Pritchard as his birth mother and said she died in childbirth at this place,” Finn replied. “I guess she lived a bit longer than that, although not much in the grand scheme of things.”
“No, not much,” Harper murmured. “I wonder if Bennett killed Anna Pritchard because of that. Maybe Anna’s parents – her mother especially – decided to reclaim her at some point. If that happened, Anna might recognize her own child with the Hicks. Bennett wouldn’t risk that.”
“That story makes as much sense as anything else,” Finn acknowledged. “I tried to track down the Pritchards after I found out the truth. Anna’s parents were long gone, of course, but Anna’s cousin procreated and I managed to track down one of her children. Ned. He was a nice guy and he said that what happened with Anna was a tragedy. The family’s official line was that Anna died in a car accident while taking care of a sick aunt in Iowa.”
“Did he know the truth?”
“He did, but only because it was whispered about when he was a child,” Finn answered. “He’s dead now, too. He died about three years ago. I visited him on his deathbed – mostly because I was hoping he would be eager to unburden his soul – and he told me that Anna was pregnant and supposed to be at the asylum for six months at the most.
“When she didn’t immediately return home, her parents made up a story about her settling out there, but Anna’s mother was never happy with the turn of events,” he continued. “When Anna’s father died of a heart attack at an early age, her mother immediately started paperwork to get Anna out of this place. It obviously never happened.”
“Because Bennett killed her.” Harper stared at Anna. “You remember how it happened, don’t you?”
“I just went to sleep,” Anna replied, her voice weak. “I went into a room, he told me he had a new treatment plan, and I went to sleep.”
Harper had a hard time believing a sadist like John Jacob Bennett would make it as easy as that, but she didn’t put up a fight. If Anna didn’t want to talk about her death, remember it even, she had no intention of pushing her.
Ghostly Asylum Page 19